


Please Don't Argue

by Exposedma



Series: Promtapalooza [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Antagonistic Relationship, Gen, Not Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exposedma/pseuds/Exposedma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis Trevelyan, twin brother to Inquisitor Soleil Trevelyan, is a Templar, young though he is, he has been given the great honor of guarding and observing Madam Vivienne and her mage apprentices.  Thanks to the mage Templar war having erupted prior to him becoming a full Templar knight, he has never served in a circle, as such, he is prone to overreactions.  Much to Madam de Fer's disappointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Argue

Aramis felt five years old again, he towered over first Enchanter Vivienne by a head and yet she looked down her nose at him. Behind her were enchanters from Orlais who she had invited as apprentices, to tech alchemy to. Ser Barris stationed him outside the lab more for appearances then security. Vivienne was a master at her craft he was assured, but she insisted a Templar be posted, because appearances were important. The magic that flared inside the lab was unfamiliar, he had been made a full Templar after the circles had fallen, and so his exposure to alchemy had been what he had been taught, and read in books. When one of the mages voices started to rise, Aramis had ignored the calm Vivienne had reacted with, the magic was strange, erratic, and along with the apprentice he let fear get the best of him. He barged in, and smote the spell dead in its tracks. It was quite possibly the worst decision he had ever made. 

“The spell is ruined, as are all the necessary ingredients. Do you know how rare black deepstalker spleen is? How expensive?” She demanded, waiting.

“No, madam Vivienne, I don’t.” His voice small and meek, a far cry from the rather heroic and commanding one he had used when he barged in on the lesson. 

“I thought not. Brother or not, the Inquisitor will hear of this, as will your direct superiors. You may leave.” Vivienne waved her hand, dismissing him. The last thing he needed was Commander Cullen, Ser Barris and his bloody sister dressing him down. Surely she could see reason. 

“Please Madam Vivienne, the magic was erratic, and out of control, I could not simply…”

“It was a lesson, my dear, of course the magic would not have been executed perfectly, but it was hardly out of control. Any mistakes my students may have made I could have easily remedied without your interference, any Templar to have served in a circle knows that there are growing pains when mages are first learning their craft.” Her voice never broke from pleasant ease, but Aramis could feel the steel, his cheeks burned, painfully aware of his inexperience. 

“But the…” He tried desperately to salvage any dignity that might remain to him.

“Please don’t argue. Leave, you have no more business here, unless you intend to smite Caroline’s fire containment efforts? No?” Vivienne pointed her perfectly manicured finger towards the previously smoking lab equipment currently frosted over thanks to said apprentice.

“By your leave.” Aramis turned on his heels and left, rubbing his face his both hands. When he opened them again that damned Tevinter mage, Dorian, was smirking at him, his brown eyes positively dancing with mirth. 

“That was bracing!”

“Shut up, Dorian.” Maybe he could convince his sister to throw him into one of those rifts.


End file.
